


Still A Child

by pipisafoat



Category: Rammstein
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-24
Updated: 2006-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-19 07:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Schneider thinks about Richard on his birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still A Child

You're still a child. Maybe you're celebrating your thirty-ninth birthday today, but you're really still a child.

Look at you dancing! You're not even that drunk, but you still dance as though you were. Showing off your body...I guess we're just lucky you at least have a body to show off. It should be illegal to be that sexy on your birthday.

Not that I'm complaining, now! Far from it. After all, I'm the one who benefits from your body. And, of course, the mirror, but who am I to complain? I admire that body too.

I remember how you woke me up this morning. Do you remember? Are you thinking about it, dancing out there with Olli and Paul? Can you recall exactly how the morning went, in as much detail as I can?

You punched me in the ribs. Not the best wake-up call, but it served its purpose. I rolled over on top of you to keep you from doing it again. That's when you informed me (in a voice much too loud for seven thirty) that it was your birthday, and as such you expected a nice celebratory fuck. Knowing me as you do, that was the perfect way to start your day. You wanted a celebratory fuck, you got it. After that you wanted breakfast in bed. Well...You would have had it if you hadn't smeared it all over me. I mean, you still ate some of it, but the rest is probably still ground into the sheets. God Richard, you still have your youth when it comes to sex.

I think you've just noticed that I'm watching you from our table. Or rather, it's just sunk into your brain that if I'm watching you, I'm not dancing with you. Either way, you're making your way over here. I know what you want, and you know I don't dance in public unless I'm incredibly drunk. And I'm not. Not yet, at least.

You've put on your pout and you're still several tables away. Richard, you know I don't dance...but you also know I can't resist that face, especially on your birthday. Why in the world do you want me to make a fool out of myself on your day? Isn't it enough that we're all here, that Till's paying for the drinks, and that you're still hot? Isn't that a good enough birthday for you?

But obviously not, because you're holding out your hand for me. To my surprise, I'm reaching for it, standing up, and willingly going out on the floor with you. I'm not even putting up a fight. Richard Kruspe, what sort of spell have you put on me to make me so compliant to your every whim?

You're saying something to me now, but I can't hear you over the music. It doesn't matter though, because I figure out what you were saying as you drag me over to Till on the way back to the dance floor. I let go of your hand as you try to tug him out of the chair to join us. He's laughing and resisting, but we all know he'll come. I roll my eyes at Flake, who laughs and joins you in the chore of heaving Till out of the chair. Till pretends to give up when Flake comes, saying something about not being able to resist "against that much muscle." Flake thumps him in the head and follows you back to the dance floor.

I know you'll have fun dancing with them, and normally I'd just sit down in Till's newly vacated chair. I know you would understand if I did. But this is your birthday, after all. I think I could stand to surprise you tonight.

I sneak up behind you as you try to show Flake a less harmful way to dance than jerking erratically, trying not to laugh and alert you to my presence. I wrap my arms around you and nuzzle your neck, chuckling against your skin as you jump.

"Happy birthday, love."


End file.
